And the Golden Foot Goes to:

Me & Son #3.

Every time we visit my inlaws, I put my foot in my mouth. I say something so completely wrong it just stops conversation. This time, I lucked out. I get to share the award with my dear son.

Yes, the same one who broke his finger, 2 days ago, while visiting the same side of the family.

Today, we went to my mother-in-law's annual Christmas Eve party. There was some tension in the air, because she had asked me what the boys wanted for Christmas and I told her...the truth.

"They would love new airsoft guns and masks. And they'd each really appreciate a black hoodie, because everyone their age wears them all the time."

Mother-in-law took one look at my email (which did, in all fairness, include many other shopping options) and called Hubby (aka The Son Who Can Do Nothing Right).

"ARE THEY PLANNING ANOTHER COLUMBINE? BLACK, HOODED SWEATSHIRTS AND GUNS? HOW ARE YOU RAISING THESE BOYS?"

It went on for quite a while. I could hear her through the phone and across the room.

Can I just say that they are, for the most part, peace-loving, gentlemanly young people? That they stage airsoft battles in the yard, with their friends, using plastic pellets and low-power, clear plastic guns, and everyone is required to wear masks, and it is all in fun?

And may I further state that hoodies are warm? And that black is just a manly color? And that the Columbine guys wore TRENCHCOATS, anyway?

And may I postulate that when she was raising 4 sons of her own, back in the 50s and 60s, before Hubby came along, I will lay you whatever odds you like that those young men were allowed to play cops & robbers & cowboys & Indians & whatnot?

And that none of our boys has ever been hurt playing with airsoft rifles, but one just broke his finger, playing football?

All that was by way of background information, by the way.

So, anyway, we get there, and after much waiting and Sonly gnashing of teeth, and the munching of the Christmas lunch, it turns out that Grandma had indeed given each Son a black, zippered hoodie. They immediately put them on. They loved them, because, after all, ever since the black hoodie trend took hold in our house they can't get enough of them. They thanked their grandmother.

And in the spirit of "find something specific to say, to compliment the gift you received," Son #3 turns to the crowd of relatives and says,

"Yep, once you go Black, you never go back!"